


a month of sunshine

by unholyminter (oneswhonever)



Category: The Ultimate Sidemen
Genre: Alternate Universe, Heavy Angst, Lowercase, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Recreational Drug Use, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:52:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12784386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneswhonever/pseuds/unholyminter
Summary: for awhile simon's life and the lives of all of his friends had been complicated. when the bradley family moves in next door, things become even more complicated, but somehow that's okay.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly don't know what even inspired me to write this other than the song "a month of sunshine" by fever dreamer, and even then this is a super loose adaptation of the song. just a bunch of messy ideas thrown into one messy story, essentially. a messy story that will have lots of drug use and probably some sexy stuff later on, so bare that in mind if that's not so much your thing. 
> 
> happy reading :)

_september 1st--_

 

simon meets josh on the first of the month and it's very telling that he never even noticed the new neighbors at first. he hears about it in passing, when he's throwing together some last minute arrangement with the guys for their last soiree before the school year begins again and sucks them back in with the same never-ending routines. it has to be big. 

"i'll bring a pie, maybe," his mother comments, off-handed. simon looks up from his phone and cocks an eyebrow at her. "i feel so bad. i've been so busy in the office that i never got to say hello. your father says they're wonderful people. they've got a son turning eighteen in just a few days, not too much older than you. maybe you could show him around a little."

simon knows better than to roll his eyes, so he doesn't. "sounds good, mum." he knows he won't be making friends with the new guy anytime soon, but neglects to mention so. "i'm going over to harry's tonight. the guys and i-,"

"better not be getting into any trouble," his mother cuts in, the same time a horn blares in the driveway. "harry should know it's against the law to be doing that without reason, especially in the neighborhood." simon is getting up from the table, with his back turned, so he decides he can spare the eye roll this time. "be good, si."

"always."

he heads out the door, and to his surprise, there's a stranger leaning against the door of harry's car, a broad smile showing off a set of endearingly crooked teeth. harry is mid-sentence when simon approaches, but the stranger looks up anyways, and their eyes lock. his eyes are blue. his hair is dark and messy. he is adorned in a millwall jersey and loose fitting tracksuit bottoms. he's handsome.

shit.

"it's about time your ass crawled out of bed," harry croons as soon as he notices the blonde's presence. simon had stopped dead in his tracks, standing in the middle of the driveway. "we don't have all day, you know."

simon sighs and trudges over, a deep burning settling in his thighs as he stalks to the passenger side, but his eyes never advert. he can't seem to look away, and it's obvious that harry notices - his eyes dart between the stranger and simon, and back again. the stranger also happens to be staring. simon can't read his expression.

"i'm josh," the stranger says, a  _thick_ and brash accent cutting into the air and knocking the wind right out of simon's lungs. josh. it's very fitting. "you must be simon. your dad talks about you a lot."

simon wonders if it's about the coke binges and late night parties, or if it's about the school presidency and being captain of the football team. he swallows but the lump in his throat is definitely there to stay. "hi. yeah, that'd be me. i take it you're my mysterious new neighbor?"

he sounds so ridiculous that he wants to die, but josh just laughs - and although it's loud and unapologetic, it's also beautiful. "i guess that's me. i'd say you're the mysterious one, though. haven't seen you around yet."

simon reckons that the coke binge stories have had to have come out. if not, he's certain that josh can tell. simon's never been thinner in his life, and the dark circles under his eyes have taken on a more purple undertone recently. harry's probably on the shit now, with his hazel eyes hidden behind deeply tinted aviators. josh looks like too clean cut of a guy to fuck with the stuff.

probably a good thing. 

"yeah," simon says. he puts his hand on the car door, but doesn't make any move to actually get in. for once, harry is not impatient - he's watching their exchange with a certain level of amusement that he's unable to mask. "i mean, it's been pretty busy around here recently. harry and i are co-presidents this year, and i captain the football team, so..."

"your dad had mentioned that, yeah." okay, so maybe the coke stories were still a family secret. best that. "i'd assume that you're the jack of all trades type, yeah? i mean, you've got the looks, you must be popular and good at sports..."

got the looks. simon shivers. "if you could call it that, i suppose."

he's not sure if he's talking about being good looking or if he's talking about being a jack of all trades. honestly, he's probably better at sucking cock and snorting cocaine than he is at anything else, but that's not necessarily something he's in the mood to talk about with this handsome guy that he hardly knows. his demons will probably be forced out of the closet at some stage, anyhow. no need to rush the process.

"well, if you ladies are done with the formalities," harry pipes up, and simon sighs. "we've gotta get going. ethan's gonna piss himself if we don't get back soon."

simon slips quietly into the car, and the polite smile is still prominent on josh's face. "good meeting you guys. i'll see you around, simon."

he turns and walks towards his own house - which is all but an identical copy of the one belonging to the minter family, with an old corvette sitting in the driveway. he watches quietly as josh enters the house through the garage, but not without a glance over the shoulder, and another smile willing to melt even the coldest, deadest of hearts.

"he's hot," harry comments, and finally pulls out of the driveway. when he knows he can get away with it, simon opens the glove compartment and withdraws the pack of cigarettes hidden under all the garbage and napkins that harry insists on keeping. he lights one calmly. "you should invite him out sometime." simon rolls his eyes, and harry notices it from the corner of his eye. "or is he not...?"

"he's fine," simon rasps, clears his throat and tries again. "obviously i've got nothing against him." harry doesn't seem to get it, so simon goes on, trying to joke. "i think i'm back on my shit again, haz."

"you were never  _off_ your shit."


	2. Chapter 2

_september 2nd--_

 

whenever simon encounters vik barn the only thing he can think of is the fact that they're not friends anymore. that never bothered him, and it doesn't now, either - not when he sees that vik and his boyfriend have crashed the party. okay, it's not so much a  _crash_ seeing as the entirety of their senior class was invited, but still - it should go without saying that they're not necessarily welcome. simon is very acutely aware of vik looking at him every now and then, his eyes narrowing into the dirtiest glare that they could muster. simon refuses to even give him the time of day (night?), seeing as they're supposed to be celebrating the end of the summer. 

vik has been mad at him ever since simon beat him out at the presidential election. in hindsight, simon can at least acknowledge the fact that it was maybe a shitty thing to do. after all, vik had been wanting the position ever since they were thirteen, and simon blew in out of nowhere and just  _took it._ he hadn't even needed to officially campaign - people had nominated him, they voted for him; simon had been insistent of the election being a popularity contest, and nothing more, and this just proved it.

needless to say, vik had been pissed, and probably rightfully so. he found simon right after they found out the election results, and chewed him out.  _you knew how much i fucking wanted this. you have everything. why do you have to take the only thing that i want? if you were my friend, you would have dropped out._ vik had been one of simon's closest mates up until this point, but simon was stoned out of his damn mind when he was approached (in school, no less; the teachers genuinely couldn't tell that he was glassy-eyed and sniffling, so really, it's their own fault) and couldn't feel even an ounce of sympathy for what he had done.

_it was the will of the people, vik. maybe if people liked you a little better they would have voted for you - ever think of that?_

it had been a low blow, but vik seemed unbothered by the comment. he had looked at simon a little more closely, and promptly grabbed at him - at his face; his thumb under simon's jaw, his ring and middle finger holding his eye open and forcing him to keep it open, no matter how much the blonde had been twitching. maybe the prefects couldn't tell that simon was intoxicated, but vik definitely could. he wrote him off for good after that, but definitely not after telling him that he was going to ruin his life if he kept it up.

_go ahead and play president, simon. see if i care. you're just going to end up fucking yourself over anyways, and i want no part in it._

so much for vik being his friend. again, not like he cares. he has plenty of friends. they weren't the judgmental type-a friends, either. 

"this is a fucking rager," harry calls to him over the pulsating beat of the music. they've been dancing, the two of them alone ever since ethan had stumbled upstairs and promptly passed out in his bed (emancipated, he had the house to himself, and the place had been their party spot ever since). simon nodded in mute agreement. "i've got a really good feeling about this year, simon! we're going to fucking rule the whole damn place!"

simon definitely liked the sound of that. what he liked even better was all the male attention he was currently receiving. he was very aware of people watching him, and he thrived off of it. he could do without some of the more predatory looks, but all in all, people just liked to ogle. simon could understand why. when he was high, he became about a hundred times more aware of just how attractive he was - sharp features, styled synthetically blonde hair, a limber frame. people liked to watch and he liked the attention.

"i need another drink," he calls to harry over the music, and his friend nods in understanding, so simon promptly slips away into the kitchen. he hadn't noticed when vik and his boyfriend broke apart, so he was surprised to see lachlan standing there, a joint hanging precariously between two fingers as he sat slumped over the kitchen table, somber. 

"where's the fire, gorgeous?" simon croons to him over the music, and lachlan looks up for the first time - seemingly startled by his presence. "sorry. didn't mean to scare you." cocaine rushing through his system, simon is confident as he swoops in and plucks the joint right from lachlan's fingers. "now, what would your boyfriend think of this? you know he doesn't approve, lachy."

he takes a smooth drag on the joint, and lachlan's eyebrows furrow together. "mate, i don't want any trouble."

truly, lachlan was a peacemaker. he didn't fight. he didn't raise his voice. he hardly even swore. he was a golden boy in a lot of regards, which is probably why he and vik clicked in the first place - and had been together since they were both fifteen.

back then, simon knew lachlan well. knew his body and knew his mannerisms. dreamed  _about_ his body. lachlan almost looks like a stranger, nowadays - his hair falls a bit more loosely around his face, his cheekbones are more prominent, and he definitely hit a growth spurt. seeing him in the halls, simon could see that he went past six feet and then just kept going. 

"you've come to the wrong place, then," simon replies coolly after blowing out a long stream of smoke. he's very aware of lachlan staring at him, perhaps at his lips. simon decides to chance stepping closer, and casually flicks the joint at him. "you should know by now that our shindigs are nothing  _but_ trouble." he's sure lachlan knows. he's sure vik talks trash about him all the time. he's sure that lachlan knows to stay away. however, the australian doesn't so much as flinch when simon's hands find their way to his shoulders, and he digs his fingers in. "there's nothing wrong with that from time to time."

lachlan clears his throat, but again, he definitely doesn't move away. "vik is worried about you," is what he ends up finally saying, and simon scoffs, digging his fingers in hard enough to elicit a yelp from the taller boy. as if. "he is. i know he seems pissed, but trust me. he's worried about what all this shit is doing to you. haz and ethan, too."

simon moves and comes to stand in front of lachlan, but he doesn't stay standing for long. he casually sits on top of lachlan's lap, halfway off one of his thighs. he nearly topples to the ground, too drunk to sit still, but lachlan promptly settles a hand on his hip and holds him there. even when simon is steady, he doesn't move it.

"as you can tell, i'm great," he murmurs, and his breath, reeking heavily of alcohol, is suddenly hitting lachlan's lips. he dares to brush them, briefly. "or do you not think so?"

tremors are evident, and so is the fact that lachlan is unnerved. he stutters when he speaks, "you know i'm with vik." he pauses, but not for long. "simon, you used to be so different. this isn't you and i know the  _real_ you wouldn't be doing this. not if you were sober."

"well, like it or not, this  _is_ the real me now," simon finally gets off his lap, and stumbles towards the door, stopping in the frame. "and hey, if you ever decide you've had enough of vik...you have my number."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is short and not the best in my opinion but it will aide in the next day/chapter xx

_september 3rd--_

 

there are sirens when simon wakes up. they cut through the air in an unpleasant manner, and he actually grabs for a pillow and covers his head with it. he hardly has recollection of the night before, other than falling asleep in the guest bedroom of ethan's house after a long, slow fuck with a close friend of his - jj, who had been equally as drunk, and higher than the sky, having the balls to shoot drugs right into his bloodstream (simon had yet to brave needles, or any drug that therefore required a needle; he knew people who shot heroin, but he was not one of them). 

"fuck," he heard the groan from beside him, before there was a grinding against his bare ass - jj waking up. "i always love waking up next to you, but i could pass on all the fucking noise." he stops for a moment, a hand running up and down simon's thigh carefully before abruptly pausing. "what if it's the cops?"

simon pushes himself up calmly, a trail of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. he wipes it carefully with the back of his hand before leaning in and pressing his lips to jj's - placing a careful hand at the base of the other boy's neck. it's truly a stark difference between them literally tearing one another apart the previous night. it makes him think, briefly, about all the people that told him he was entirely different when he was sober. he reckoned that they were right.

"god, you're incredible," jj whispers when they pull away, and simon feels dizzy. his hangovers are so intense that even the smallest noises are enough to make him swear off drinking (for a few days, maybe), so it's really no surprise that the sirens outside are driving him crazy. they sound close. "i could kiss you all day long, simon."

"where?"

by the time they were done with the third blowjob in the past twelve hours (two from simon, one from jj), the sirens had stopped. the commotion was inside of the house now, and no matter how much simon didn't want him to, jj wanted to know the source of all the noise. 

"nobody has any consideration," he's murmuring as he tugs on his pants and buckles his belt. simon pouts up at him from his permanent residence on the bed. "i'll be back before you know it, babes. just gonna tell them to fucking shut it."

simon didn't doubt there were stragglers still hanging around from the party. he let it be. it was all routine by now. he closes his eyes and within seconds felt himself being pulled under.

he never notices when jj doesn't come back. he sleeps all day. no one bothers to wake him. 


	4. Chapter 4

_september 4th--_

 

simon is in his own home (fully clothed, which is a surprise; he remembers being naked when he fell asleep) when he wakes up finally, confused and disoriented. he isn't sure at first how this is even possible - with the knowledge that he fell asleep at ethan's the night of the party, with jj beside him. jj isn't there, but simon definitely is not alone. when he peels his crusty eyes open, harry is in the room with him, sitting on the floor. his head is bent down, so he doesn't notice that simon is awake, but simon definitely notices the tears that are streaking down his ripe, red cheeks.

"hazza," simon murmurs, simultaneously patting around on the bed for his phone. harry looks up, looks in simon's direction - but it seems like he's looking right  _past_ him. "hey, are you alright? what's happened?"

harry is silent for the moment, and as he is, simon takes the moment to check his phone - gaping at all the missed calls and messages, most of which are from harry himself. the calendar also shows that it's the fourth - two days before the start of school, and two days  _after_ the party. simon refuses to believe that he slept through an entire day, undisturbed, but the slamming migraine is proof enough. 

"i took you home last night," harry murmurs, and his voice sounds  _wrecked._ simon gets out of bed, and even though his knees really want to give in, he makes his way over to sit on the floor next to harry and put an arm around his best friend's shoulders. having missed an entire day, he feels as though he's missing something, but he can't place it. he's too aware of harry's grim attitude and appearance to be comfortable. "you got really fucked up." as it goes without saying, simon thinks. "bad shit happened. i woke up yesterday morning and...ethan wasn't breathing."

the world stills. stops. 

"he's...i should have done something," harry's tears are a constant, and simon squeezes him silently - it's all he's able to offer. he's stunned into complete and total silence. "i didn't do anything. i let him go to bed when he said he felt sick. i should have stayed with him." simon can't deny the truth in that statement, but he doesn't say so - they both let him go. "i went to bed and he...he was fine then. i think. i don't remember. i woke up and he- he was  _seizing_ and he threw up everywhere and-"

"haz," simon gently cuts him off, and nestles his face into the nape of harry's neck. he places a hand at the base of the younger boy's back, rubbing a calm circle into his shirt. he can feel the younger lad hyperventilating. "you're getting yourself worked up." he pauses, and dares to ask, "tell me what happened, slower this time. what happened to ethan?"

harry sighs, and rubs his eyes furiously, the tears ever so slightly subsiding although his breathing is still rocky. "i don't know. he must have overdosed on something last night. that's what the doctors think." he shakes his head, fire in his eyes. "this is so fucking  _stupid._ you know if we had never gotten into the fucking shit, he'd be okay right now?"

simon chews on the tender skin of his lower lip thoughtfully. "i mean, i suppose so..." his own mind turns dark, and he shudders. "he's not dead, is he?" harry shakes his head, very briefly. "so in the hospital, then? is he going to be okay?"

"no," harry laughed shortly. "he's past that point already, apparently. if he doesn't die, he's more likely than not going to have permanent brain damage." simon is shaking at this point - the prospect of it all has yet to settle in as a reality. it's too hard to believe that the boy he was fucking around with and having a good night with less than forty-eight hours was now apparently in some sort of emergency state. "i couldn't stay there anymore. i couldn't fucking see him anyways. his asshole dad wouldn't even let me in the room. thinks it was my fucking fault, and he's right." simon opened his mouth to protest to that, but harry wasn't done talking. "everyone is fucking giving up on him, simon. acting like he's already gone."

simon still cannot speak. ice is running through his veins and he keeps shuddering. his stomach is curling - partially from hunger, partially from nausea, and partially from the nerves. he feels sick and feverish. 

"before your mum let me in i talked to josh outside," harry says abruptly, which is an odd topic change. simon listens regardless - he wants to hear this more than he wants to hear about ethan being in the hospital. "it's his birthday. he said he'd be praying for ethan." he scoffs suddenly, digging his nails into his own arm. simon reaches out and grabs his wrist, forcing him to stop. "as if it'd do any good now."

"i guess it's a nice thought," simon murmurs uselessly. he bites his lip hard. "are you, uh...planning to go back to the hospital?" harry gives him an estranged look. "i'm just...maybe see ethan while you can, ya know? just in case."

harry scowls. "so you've given up on him, too?"

simon figures with the way that harry was talking, recovery for ethan just seems unlikely. he refuses to say so. "not necessarily. i just think that if you don't do these things now, you might regret it later."

"he's not going to die. he can't."

"...you said it yourself that it wasn't looking good. that he was past the point of being okay. if the doctors think the outlook is bleak...haz."

harry is crying again, this time harder. "he's my fucking  _rock,_ simon. i don't know what to even fucking do if he's gone. i don't have any family. we've lost so many friends. he's...my everything."

simon thought it was stupid to place so much faith in another human being, but didn't think now was the time to bring this opinion up. he stands up and wobbles, grabbing harry's arm and pulling him up too - even when his friend gazes at him questionably. 

"i'll call jj. i'm sure he won't mind giving us a ride. he'll probably want to know about ethan, too," he pauses, thinks about mentioning that he's starving and needs painkillers for the drilling in his skull, but doesn't. "when ethan gets better he's going to want to see you."

when the three arrive at the hospital, they sit in the waiting room. no change. don't expect a change quite yet. it'll be a miracle. 

harry cries and simon sits with him all night long (he takes a few excursions to sit outside and smoke when he thinks he can get away with it; lets jj kiss him on the lips a few times, but never in front of harry).

no one speaks. simon finds josh on facebook, messages him a quick happy birthday for a formality (not so much a formality; he just wants the distraction, a few seconds to look at his phone and away from harry and away from the bleak doctors and  _away_ from ethan's stricken parents who will not stop staring at the trio as though they're demons who cursed their poor, innocent son).

josh thanks him, asks him if he's busy.

asks him if he's free. to help "celebrate."

simon thinks about it more than a few times, but in the end says that he's busy. still at the hospital with ethan and harry. asks him if he can take a rain check and take josh out to a proper birthday dinner later in the week. asks josh if he wants to help him celebrate  _his_ birthday.

(maybe there won't even be a celebration. this whole situation is a clusterfuck and simon wishes that  _anybody_ knew what was going to be happening. waiting for news of any kind was fucking dreadful.)

josh says he would love to.

"who's that tool?" jj speaks for the first time, pressing a cafeteria sandwich into simon's hand. simon hasn't eaten and he's grateful as he tears into it. 

"josh, my neighbor," simon answers calmly, and harry finally looks up. "it was his birthday today. he wanted to know if i wanted to help him  _celebrate._ i think we're gonna be celebrating my birthday instead."

jj's lips purse, and harry scowls. "you hardly know josh. you're going to hook up with some guy you just met?"

"wouldn't be the first time," simon reminds him. he's careful to keep an edge out of his tone. "in any such case, since when did you care about the decisions i make?"

"have you seen where we are?" harry asks, gesturing wildly around the waiting room. "since fucking now."


	5. Chapter 5

_september 5th--_

 

"thanks for meeting with me, simon. i'm sorry about ethan."

simon rolls his eyes in his ex-best friend's direction, but still avoids looking at him - he has been since the moment he arrived at tobi's house. "he's not dead."

"i know. but harry told me he was in bad shape," tobi stops speaking, chews at the dry skin of his lower lip. he looks good as ever. he's been the subject of a lot of simon's sexuality issues ever since they were thirteen years old. he's never looked at him the same since then. "i've been praying for him."

simon gave up his relationship with god a year ago, the first time he decided that it was a good idea to do cocaine with harry and ethan. he lost his faith. his view of the universe and all inhabitants grew progressively bleaker. additionally, his mother had the audacity to once tell him that he was no longer one of god's children - but that there was a way he could redeem himself.

whether it was because of the drugs, or the homosexuality, simon wasn't sure. he was willing to bet that it was actually probably both. older brother still a bachelor, his mum was forced to cope with the fact that she would probably never live to see grandchildren. somehow, that alone was enough to make simon some dreadful monster of a kid. 

the cocaine was like shit icing on the crap cake that was turning out to be his existence. apparently.

"how's that been working out?" simon inquires, and tobi's face falls. "i mean, he's still in the hospital, right? seems like those prayers are falling on deaf ears, pal."

no amount of prayer could save any of them, simon reckons. they were far beyond that. if there was a god, surely he had more important things to worry about than some burnout teenagers. 

"you don't believe that, do you?" tobi asks. simon snorts. "i don't know what that shit is doing to your brain, but-"

"i've changed. got it," simon finishes for him. "if you called me over here just to lecture me, i've already had the  _drugs are changing you_ talk about ten times just this week. spare me."

"this isn't you, simon."

"it's the new me, though. he's better for everyone."

"if that's actually how you think-"

"everyone is better off without me in their lives," simon cuts him off again. he's sick of not being heard. "not one person is doing worse without me around. everyone wrote me off."

"it's not because of who you  _were,_ " tobi is insistent. "it's because of who you are  _now._ i know you better than to think you actually believe in the shit you're spewing right now. there's no way you're happy with who you are right now."

"sure i am. i'm school president, i'm captain of the football team, i've got my stanford acceptance. i'll be off in california next year. i've got everything. and now i'm just having a little more fun. what's so bad about that?"

"this is fun? being a strung out drug addict? one of your best mates is dying in the hospital because of this shit, and you still think it's  _fun?_ "

simon's phone buzzes while tobi is talking. it's a text from josh. telling him that he can't wait for the 7th. that alone dictates the answer, "more fun than you may think, actually."

 


End file.
